Laura Thorne
(12/26/01)
I have this thing for Zambonis. You know those great, hulking machines they
use on skating rinks to clean the ice? I've been fascinated by them ever
since I was a little kid, when my Dad would take me to watch my brother play
hockey.
I'm a grown woman now and it's an attraction turned addiction. It's not
unusual to find me at the ice rink at least once a week, sometimes more,
standing by the boards, waiting for the Zamboni to come out onto the ice.
There's something about the vibration and hum of it as it rumbles past me
that drives me wild. And watching those soft tendrils of steam that curl up
off its back end sends a quiver right through me. It's the way it glides
out there, across the ice all big and massive, with its giant, hot tongue
trailing shiny, wet saliva, that gets me off. The Zamboni man floods the ice -- I flood my panties.
I'd often wondered what it would be like to get up in the driver's seat and
just drive it. So yesterday, on Christmas Eve, I decided it was time to give
it a whirl. I was going to bag me a Zamboni, as kind of an early Christmas
present.
I'd known Frank, the arena maintenance guy, for quite some time, although
we'd never really talked. I only knew his name because it was embroidered in
big orange letters on his navy blue uniform. Our communication up until
yesterday consisted of an occasional smile and a thumbs up. He wasn't bad
looking, but it wasn't like I was attracted to him, really. The Zamboni was
about the only thing, at that point, I figured he had going for him. The way
he twirled the steering wheel with his big index finger wasn't completely
lost on me, though.
My plan was set. I went to the arena a bit earlier than usual. It being
Christmas Eve, I knew Frank would be cleaning the ice for the last time that
day around 6 p.m., and the arena would be deserted except for me, Frank, and
the Zamboni. The mere thought of it gives me the shivers, even now!
The third tier of seats looked good to me. I'd be right at eye-level with
Frank that way. This was a make it or break it deal, and things had to be
just right. I heard some noises in back of the arena, so I hurriedly climbed
up to my self-appointed position. My pussy had already begun to tingle,
anticipating the arrival of my ice-melting obsession. My pulse rate was
elevated too. Then I heard the sound of my dream machine starting. My heart
raced as I watched the end panel of boards and glass rise up into the air.
There it was. Glistening and huge,
swirling onto the ice with no more effort than a pixie on figure skates. The
Zamboni cometh. Frank was atop it, riding majestically. Oh, how I'd longed
for that to be me up there, whirling and humming over top of the ice on that
great vibrating monster.
He hadn't noticed me yet. As he rounded the second corner, I gave it to him.
With both barrels, so to speak. I stood up and unzipped my coat, shivering
with excitement. Frank looked up and saw me at the same instant I'd opened
my coat. I didn't know whether it was my bare tits standing at full-nipple
attention or my triangle of fuzz-covered pussy that was staring straight at
him that first caught his eye. I really had no idea, either, until that very
moment, that you could stop a Zamboni on a dime.
You're probably thinking, why didn't I just ask him for a ride on that thing?
Why'd I have to go show him my tits and pussy to get his attention? I don't
know. That's the honest truth. It was just thinking about being there and
being naked with the Zamboni that made me do it, I guess. It was like my
genitals were possessed or something.
Frank whistled. You know, one of those cat calls? I smiled and walked down
the steps to the boards, buck-naked, except for my white high-heeled leather
boots with the fur-trimmed tops, carrying my coat over my arm. Frank started
up the motor. My cunt dripped liquid heat at the sound of it.
"Jeezus Christ Awmighty! What the hell you doin' here Christmas Eve...a sweet
thang like you, honey? All naked and rarin' to go, like. Damn, I could hang
some hella big ornaments off them pretty tits a'yours!"
"I...I wondered, could I get a ride on the Zamboni tonight, Frank? Sorta like
an early Christmas present. See...I've always loved these machines. Heck,
you should know that, you see me here all the time watching you drive it.
Would you mind?"
"Mind? Mind? Hell no, I don't mind! Jeezus, honey, get on up here, sit
right here and I'll give you a ride on the big Zamboner!" Frank patted his
crotch and laughed.
I slipped on my coat and crossed in front of the stands to the penalty box,
opened the door and stepped onto the ice. I felt the vibrations that baby
was giving off as I got closer to it. With a big smile, I gave Frank my hand
and he pulled me up on top of the rig. This was my fantasy come true. I
almost swooned as I stood there, weak-kneed, and out of breath, like I'd just
climbed Mt. Everest.
"Gotta sit on my lap, there's only one seat, ya know. They don't make these
things for two, honey. Gotta name, cutie?"
"Yeah, my name's Callie."
"Well, CallieCakes, sit that fine pussy of yours down. Right here." He
motioned to his lap. "And let's let 'er rip."
What happened next just kind of happened without either of us giving it any
thought or voice. He started up the Zamboni and it started to purr, and so
did my pussy. I was already wet before I'd even sat on his lap, anyway. I
felt his large hands brushing against my bare skin, lifting my coat, and I
felt the rough canvas of his coveralls scratching the soft cheeks of my ass.
But most of all I felt his erection straining against my bottom, as that big
piece of vibrating metal we were riding on slid over the top of the ice.
The glide and hum of the machine just urged my libido on further. I couldn't
help myself when I turned suddenly and whispered huskily to Frank that I
wanted to feel his cock inside me while he let me drive.
I think he died on the spot and went to heaven, right then. All I know was
that he set a world record on undoing coveralls and unzipping jeans with one
hand.
"You get to drive now, CallieCakes. Be careful on the corners, honey. Oh
Gawd, honey, you're so fuckin' hot!"
Next thing I knew, I was spearing my wet cunt onto Frank's cock as he held
onto my ass and guided his tool deep inside me. Not only was I riding the
Zamboni, but I was riding Frank and driving the most amazing piece of
machinery ever invented!
"Hot damn! No fucking way does it get any better than this, baby!" I didn't
even realize I'd said that out loud at the time. The whole time I was
driving around the rink, cleaning ice, I was bouncing up and down on Frank's
dick. I was getting off royally and Frank was moaning like he was getting
the last rites.
"Oh Gawd, yes! Oh Gawd, yes! Fuck me, honey, gimme your tight little pussy!
Squeeze my fuckin' cock till I explode!"
As we headed down the last strip of ice left to clean, Frank pushed his
mammoth fingertip into my sex and rubbed my swollen clit back and forth.
"Oh God, yes! Oh Jesus! I'm gonna...oh fuck! Frank!"
Frank yelled, "Merry Christmas, honey!" and I came with him. His cock spewed
forth loads of come into my pussy as I ran the Zamboni down the home stretch.
The thrill of being fucked, feeling his come spill inside me, and being on top
of this marvelous machine at the same time released my floodgates one more
time. I leapt up, grabbed the steering wheel hard and roared at the top of
my lungs into the cavernous innards of an empty arena, "Yes! Yes! Oh
fucking yes! Oh, God!" as I came again. Weak and sated, I sank back into
Frank's lap, a melted heap of satisfied woman.
So, it's Christmas Day today and I have a date with Frank tonight at the
rink. He's got the keys to the Zamboni. It's a wonderful life, isn't it?
